


White Day Chocolates

by AshsHorrorShow



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: F/M, M/M, Namie Hates the Holidays, Snark, So Much Snark, White Day, happy birthday izaya
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-04
Updated: 2017-05-04
Packaged: 2018-10-27 21:11:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10816845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AshsHorrorShow/pseuds/AshsHorrorShow
Summary: Namie hated most holidays, but White Day in particular she held a higher level of resentment for. Doesn't help she has to spend this White Day with the annoying madman she calls a boss.





	White Day Chocolates

Namie Yagiri scowled as she walked into her boss, Izaya Orihara’s office, annoyance misted across her hazel eyes. Granted, this was not an unusual sight, seeing as she was always unhappy about going to work. After all, she worked for the most infamous information broker creeping around the streets of Shinjuku, and when someone like him was your boss, you really had no reason to smile or get excited for work. Not that she did any smiling at her old job, but whatever. She wasn’t a happy person. Fuck off. 

But for once, her annoyance and anger wasn’t directed towards the prospect of interacting with her raven-haired boss. No, it was more towards a certain holiday that paraded itself around as White Day.’ Ugh, just thinking of the name made her eye twitch. She took a sip from the warm coffee cup she was nursing in her hand hoping it would somehow magically alleviate her problems. Well, it helped slightly with the eye twitch, but it didn’t rid her of the disgust she held for the wretched, lovey-dovey, mushy holiday that was plaguing her mood. 

To her White Day was nothing more than a day that made love seem even more commercialized and shallow than it already was. It was the day where filthy displays of public affection were a norm, seemingly giving people the excuse to make out in the middle of the goddamn sidewalk and congest up the whole space, almost making her late for work as she had to desperately push past people who were also trying to bypass the oh-so-happy couple. A lot of people on the sidewalk though, which consisted of mostly teenage girls she noticed, seemed to find this pair of lovebirds adorable and sweet. Namie personally wanted to dump her cup of steaming coffee all over them, but whatever. 

Although lovey-dovey, gooey couples were obnoxious to deal with on White Day, people who were single tended to be obnoxious as well. Back when she was in high school, she remembered listening to her single acquaintances bitch and moan about how they would be alone for the rest of their life and insult themselves so they could see if they could fish out any compliments. Namie never gave them any.

Not only did the single members of White Day whine, they also made up dumb conciliation holidays so they felt important, such as ‘Single Awareness Day’. Basically where all the lonely people pretended to act like they were proud to be single while also lamenting on how their crush somehow didn’t know their anonymous White Day chocolates were from them!?! 

Namie supposed she was being a tad hypocritical in a way. After all, she too was single, and here she was whining about White Day and ripping it a new one, getting needlessly annoyed at the smallest of things. That was pretty whiny in retrospect.

But that could barely count because unlike the whiny singles, she never really cared about White Day to begin with. She didn’t care about any holidays. She just saw them as days where people were more annoying than usual and she would have to deal with their ridiculousness. If there was one good thing she could say about this job was that being cooped up in this apartment the whole day would make avoiding the holiday and forgetting it ever existed much easier. 

Fortunately for her, she didn’t have a boss who was big on indulging in holiday tropes either. Or so she thought anyway…

Fifteen minutes floated by her as she sat down, shifted her desk around to the way she liked it (Izaya seemed to find it a game to mess the things on her desk up in a different order just to piss her off), and began reviewing and jotting times and dates on the paperwork that her boss had laid out for her to handle, sipping idly on her coffee cup every once in awhile.

Another five minutes flew away before she finally started to wonder where the hell her boss had disappeared off too. Eventually, when another ten minutes ticked on by, she was really starting to become concerned. 

Don’t misinterpret that statement. She wasn’t worried about Izaya specifically. Had he not been the sole provider of her daily paycheck, she would’ve been able to take hearing the news that he got shot in the head without blinking. Hell, she might have even smiled a little depending on how much he had pissed her off the day before. But it was unusual for Izaya to come in late to anything. Trust her, she had listened way too many of his goddamn punctuality speeches to not know he appreciated that sort of thing. She had actually threatened that if she heard one more, she was going to poison his coffee. So the fact that he was coming in late was… troubling.

Maybe he finally got kidnapped by the yakuza or an angry client from the past or something like that. Hell, maybe that Shizuo had finally been successful in smashing the informant down with a vending machine and they were scraping his body off of the sidewalk at this very moment with spatulas and shovels. Or maybe some gang caught him. She had seen that he had dabbled in their work and screwed some of their connections over plenty of times, if that is what his clients wanted.

Admittedly, she had become a first-class gossip-hound ever since she decided to work for the informant. She seemed to know what was going down in Ikebukuro and Shinjuku at all times. She knew business codes and passwords to highly-protected networks and had so much blackmail material stored in the files of her computer that she had no doubt she could manipulate a few people of her own if she so wanted to. It was frightening in a way, but very exhilarating knowing so much information.

But that right there was what scared her a bit. If he got kidnapped by a gang or something, what if they came back to the apartment or something and kidnapped, tortured, and killed her just because she was involved with him? There was no way in hell she was dying because of his dumbass.

Heart now pounding in her chest like a drum, she was about to collect all of her stuff and leave, when the door to the apartment opened up. She had nearly flinched, but managed to remain her ground despite her fear. If she was going down, she wasn’t going down a screaming damsel in distress. She was going to fight, bite, scratch, punch, and claw. Whatever she needed to do. 

But lo and behold it wasn’t some serial killer or crazy gang member. No, it was only the scrawny form of Izaya Orihara. She couldn’t decide now which one she would of found worst.

“Hello, hello, Namie-chan~!” her demon for a boss chirped out. “Did you miss me?”

‘No, not really. In fact, I was starting to believe and hope that you were finally injured by one of your clients. A girl can dream after all…” Namie said coolly, not wanting to deal with her boss’s chirpiness in the morning. Especially not when she had nearly been scared out of her mind. She was struggling to maintain some of her pride and hoped that the informant hadn’t noticed her temporary lapse. 

“Neh! You are truly mean, Namie-chan.” Izaya whined dramatically, but Namie could hear the smile behind his voice. He was simply being annoying on purpose. That was one of the many things she truly couldn’t stand about the man. He took no threat or insult to heart or seriously. He was not fazed by any of them, probably because he had spent his whole life getting threatened, but still…

Back when she was the head of her own company, she had everyone under her control. Her workers had used to kiss the very ground she walked on to avoid facing her wrath. She had everyone wrapped around her thumb. It had felt good. When she had told them to jump, they would ask how high. If she told them to run, they would ask how fast. In fact, that was one of the few moments in her life she would really consider herself truly happy. Being in control was a good feeling… one she enjoyed quite well.

But now that she had lost her whole entire company she had tried so hard to protect, she had to get a new job… as a secretary. It was almost like a shock to her. She had no more control anymore. In fact, it was just the opposite, she was the one being controlled this time like a puppet. She found that she didn’t like this role reversal as much either, especially since the person who had her under his thumb was quite possibly a madman… possibly. She didn’t know. All she knew was that he was what she had used to be before that brat stole it away from her.

Granted though, even she hadn’t been as twisted as him…

A lot of times, she wondered if she would be doing the whole world (or at least the country of Japan) a huge favor if she slipped in a dosage of cyanide into the informant’s morning coffee when he wasn’t paying attention. He did cause a lot of trouble after all, and even some of his insensible ramblings about being the next ‘god’ and about dominating the city creeped her out somewhat. And she was not one who was scared very easily.

And who knows, maybe one day she would. 

But hey, for now, he gave her a nice paycheck and hadn’t murdered anyone yet (at least, as far she knew), so there was no need to get her hands dirty and play the silent hero. Instead, she just opted to put up with him for another day. 

“What took you so long anyway? You are usually the one who is bitching about punctuality…” Namie asked as her boss sauntered over to his desk (which he seemed to consider an operation board), casually sitting on the edge like some sort of disrespectful teenager. Namie was surprised that he didn’t choose to sit down on his swivel chair like he usually did. Nodding towards the cup of coffee he had nested in his hand, she asked, “Did the trip to the coffee really take that long?”

It hadn’t been that long when she got there, but hey, it was White Day. There were probably dozens of partners purchasing hot, steaming mugs of coffee for their partner under the delusion that they were being original. 

“No. I was giving out White Day gifts actually! Got to participate in the celebration, neh?” Izaya said before taking a sip of coffee, like he had just told her the date or something. Namie on the other hand was bristling.

God Izaya too?! Was no one safe from the evil commercial grasp of this useless holiday other than her? She knew her boss was an enigma, but still, this was strongly out of character, even for him. 

She decided to make her anger and shock apparent.

“What the hell?! First of all, who the hell do you have a crush on? I don’t even think you have a heart to share.” She snapped, her hands clenched into fists, “Second off, isn’t it supposed to be the girls who give out gifts on White Day?” 

“So cold, Namie-chan.” Izaya commented nonchalantly at her icy tone. “But I actually do like to be a little festive every now and then and I also don’t exactly follow traditional gender roles.. It is you, who is the cold heartless demon for not wanting to celebrate a holiday that was made to shower your affection on all of your favorite people. But I guess that makes sense… you don’t like anyone.” He then burst out into small chuckles at his own wit and went back to sipping his coffee. He must not have any jobs to attend to at the moment seeing as he was joking around with her instead of doing paperwork or going out to do a job or at least on his cellphone doing something else other than annoying her. .

“I thought you loved all humans equally.” Namie commented dryly, not in a humorous mood. “I know you’re rich, but I doubt you have enough to buy everyone something pointless.”

“Of course I am not that rich, Namie-chan! And of course every human gets an equal distribution of my vast love for all of them… it’s just that some are a little more important than others, or… at least stand out, neh? Those people being my friends and family!”

Namie felt her eyes narrow slightly, her arms crossing. “Oh really now? Who did you give gifts to then? I want you to list the names and tell me what you got them. I doubt someone as crooked as you would be willing to do anything kind unless you benefitted somehow.”

Izaya sighed as if she was some kind of ignorant kid who just wasn’t wise enough to get the point. “Your utter mistrust in me is quite heartbreaking, really. Am I really that terrible of a guy, Namie-chan?”

That stupid question didn’t even deserve to be graced with an answer. Instead, Namie just stared at him expectantly, tapping her foot to signify her impatience. She was not playing any games with him today.

Rolling his eyes, Izaya lolled his head back and said, “Fine. I’ll list them, you wicked creature. There is not that many anyway…” 

“I already assumed that… you don’t have very many friends.”

“You are so cruel, Namie. But anyhow, I of course gave my little sister’s some stuff. Stuffed animals, a pair of flick-blades because you never know, neh?” Then, all of a sudden, he broke out into a wide, almost manically-gleeful grin as he added, “And a bag of chocolate-covered bugs that I had managed to craftily put in a chocolate-covered pretzels bag. Just add some glue to the open top and presto!”

Of course. Namie rolled her eyes, feeling a warm glow of sympathy towards the little sisters of Izaya Orihara… and she rarely gave sympathy towards anyone so that was an honor really. She couldn’t imagine having Izaya as a sibling… especially when he delivers such backhanded-gifts and such. She had only met the two girls a couple of times when they needed to be watched by their brother, and while kind of obnoxious, they certainly didn’t need to be related to sludge she thought. 

But amongst that glow was a small seed of jealousy towards the two girls. After all, at least they had a brother who was considerate enough to even get them something or at least acknowledge their presence. Despite how much she complained about how evil White Day was, she had actually bought her brother, Seiji, a box of chocolates herself earlier (milk chocolate, his favorite), and he had simply answered back with a baritone ‘thank you.’ 

No return gift, no heart, no nothing.

But now that she thought about it, she shouldn’t blame him. Perhaps he thought White Day was as stupid as she did. Maybe he thought Valentine’s Day as stupid as she did. Maybe the idea that White Day was even there put him in a bad mood… and she had probably soured it even more by acting all happy about it. Maybe she should inform him that she hated it too. Plus, he probably didn’t expect to get anything from her… so he just didn’t get anything back. 

Yeah… that had to be it. 

“And then I bought that perverted doctor, Shinra some new scalpels and his headless girlfriend some cooking ware since apparently, from what I gathered from my last phone call with Shinra, she liked to cook. Don’t ask me how that works…” Izaya said, shrugging in confusion at the last part. Namie was a little bothered by the fact that Izaya wasn’t more concerned that one of his friends had a headless girlfriend, but decided not to ask any questions. She honestly didn’t want to know about his involvement with anyone.

“And~” Izaya trilled, hopping off of his desk now animatedly, nearly spilling his coffee cup, which he was still holding onto. “I had spent all this time and money to buy a rather expensive box of chocolates for a certain someone who actually doesn’t qualify as a friend… only for them to smash it to the ground like he was spiking a football.” He said the last part woefully, exaggerating the hell out of his voice as if he was some crappy opera actor.

“I don’t believe you.” Namie said, her eyes narrowing. “You were going on an okay lying streak until just then…”

All of a sudden, Izaya reached into the inside of his fur-trimmed jacket and immediately pulled out a small heart-shaped box… or at least what had probably once been heart-shaped. It was a little hard to tell it was so smashed up and bent. It was so beaten and banged up that it looked like it had survived through three World Wars and was on its last leg. Namie raised a concern eyebrow despite herself.

Swallowing the strange fact that Izaya might be telling the truth, she quickly whipped out, “Okay… so I can believe someone denied you and threw down your chocolates since they probably assumed that you had poisoned them. But what I want to know is who in the world you even offered these to…”

Izaya clucked his tongue and chirped out, “Why, Ikebukuro’s infamous monster of course! Who else would have such terrible manners other than a complete and utter protozoan like him? Well, besides you anyway, you cold-hearted monster.”

Namie blinked and said, “Wait a minute, do you mean Shizuo Heiwajima? I am sorry, but… I was under the impression that the two of you hated each other guts? Isn’t one of your biggest goals in life to exterminate him? Isn’t that his dream as well? Did that change or something and I just never noticed?”

“Oh, Namie-chan. Nothing has changed. Shizu-chan and I still hate each other with all of hearts. If that monster even has one…” Izaya said condescendingly, once more like he was talking down on her and she was stupid for even asking. Normally, if any other guy spoke to her in that manner, they would’ve been decked in the face. Izaya should just be glad he at least pays somewhat decently. 

“Then why…”

“It’s a complicated matter.” Izaya said quickly and Namie decided she didn’t really want to know the details. She never liked tapping into other people’s love lives… or in this case their hate lives …or whatever the hell Izaya was talking about. 

She was just about to give up conversing with Izaya and go back to work, when Izaya cut in, “Rude protozoans’ aside, I do have one more person who I’ve yet to give a present to…” 

“And who would that be?” Namie asked warily, not liking the smirk creeping up on his face and the supposedly sultry look in his eyes. She knew Izaya had some deceptive-looking eyes, almost seeming cat-like to her. And she didn’t trust cats for a second. Those fuckers were plotting something evil, just like Izaya. So seeing them looking so predatory at her made her knees shake a little. This couldn’t be good. In fact… this was probably the farthest thing from good you can be. 

She didn’t know what he was planning, and that is what scared her the most. She had always found most people easy to read…but when she wasn’t a miracle worker. She couldn’t read enigmas like Izaya even if she tried… and since she already considered him borderline insane, so when he was giving her this look, she didn’t even want to know what was going through his mind. He already was a little too comfortable with playing with his switchblade on a normal base (she personally hoped one day, when he was flipping it around on his swivel chair he would accidently remove one of his fingers).

She was starting to feel like a mouse who was trapped in a hole while a playful snake slunk its way in and she knew that her whole entire fate rested on what the creature decided to do. Okay, so maybe she was being a little dramatic… seeing as she could easily kick Izaya in the dick and run. She also had a small can of pepper spray in her pocket that would be useless against a gang…but for a scrawny person like Izaya. Yeah, it would burn for a little bit and give her ample time to run. 

She didn’t know what she was expecting in the end. Maybe the bastard would confess that he had slipped anthrax on her paperwork and she was going to die in a few hours. Or maybe he had burned her house down just for a cheap laugh. She wouldn’t put anything past him. He was a man that could either make or break your life. 

But what he actually did surprised her. 

He handed her the damaged box of chocolate casually, like he was handing her another piece of paperwork instead of a fucking White Day gift. She looked up to see a small smile, which resembled to much of a smirk for her liking as he said, “For you, Namie-chan, because God knows if someone else will ever give you one again in your lifetime.”

He then started to snicker jovially, as if he was some kind of second grader again or something.

“You’re just a real charmer aren’t you?” Namie muttered, swiping the box of chocolates out of his hands roughly. “Remind me to punch you in the face later, will you?”

“You could do just that, Namie-chan, but if you do, I will dock your pay. You’re lucky I give you the amount you have seeing the constant threats you place on my life every day… especially when I do such generous acts for you.” Izaya said chidingly, clucking his tongue at the end. Namie wondered if it could technically be called ‘generous’ if someone gave you a damaged box of chocolate that wasn’t even intended to be given to her in the first place. Whatever. She was not going to get in that argument. 

She did vaguely wondered if she punched him in the gut instead of the face and claimed that was her version of a ‘generous’ Valentine’s gift if she would get away with it… but she eventually decided better of it. After all, Izaya was right about one thing, her pay was amazing for a personal assistant and she would hate to lose it just for momentary bliss. After all, punching your boss’s teeth, while incredibly satisfying wouldn’t pay the bills and feed her and her brother. So… she would hold it back, but he was pushing it. 

“Now shoo, shoo.” Izaya said, waving his hand around like he was flicking a mosquito away. “I am not paying you to stand around after all. Also… wipe that scowl off your face. It makes you look disappointed at the well-thought out gift? What… are you disappointed? Were you expecting a kiss from me or something?”

“I would rather kiss a corpse than you.” Namie hissed, blanching at the very thought.

“First, incest and now necrophilia. Your disgustingness truly knows no bounds…” Izaya said as he plopped down onto his swivel chair to get working on whatever job he had next. 

Namie didn’t even grace that comment with a response. Instead, she sauntered over towards her desk, throwing the dented box on top of the rest of the crap littering her desk. Apparently though, the box was more fragile than she thought as the minute it landed on the desk, the lid popped off like it was a Jack-in-the-Box. Thankfully, the contents of the box didn’t fly out with it. 

Inspecting the contents, Namie noticed that several pieces of chocolate were missing from the box (probably forever missing in action after that Shizuo guy threw them down), but that wasn’t what bothered her. There was a glaring problem with the whole thing that made her jaw clench tightly as she inspected them.

“Izaya?” she began slowly, trying to not let too much anger slip through her voice. 

“Hmm?”

“You do know I despise nuts right? I vaguely remember telling you this several times in the past…”

Izaya’s face cracked into a wide grin as he said, “Ah… so close, but yet so far.” 

He then preceded to dodge the coffee mug flung towards his head. Smirking, he said, “Ah… I think someone would’ve preferred a kiss instead now.”

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is actually three years old. I was looking through some old fics of mine and found this, and decided, "Hey I still really like this! Let's fix up some of the glaring errors and then post it again."
> 
> Fun fact, I actually really like Izanamie as a ship. Like, Shizaya is my OTP... but Izanamie is just as good. Just snark and terrible people all around. 
> 
> This fic was incredibly fun to write and I hoped you had a fun time reading it. 
> 
> If you have any critiques I would love to hear them and I hope you enjoyed!


End file.
